


Don't Talk, Just Run

by LilyInTheSnow



Series: Nunca Te Hare Llorar (I'll Never Break Your Heart) [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Attempt at Humor, Bisexual Steve Rogers, Bottom Bucky Barnes, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Has Issues, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Canon Divergence - Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Canon Divergence - Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Crack Treated Seriously, Eventual Smut, Frottage, Gay Bucky Barnes, Humor, Intercrural Sex, Light Angst, M/M, Oral Sex, POV Bucky Barnes, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Rimming, Top Steve Rogers, Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes, Wooing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-16
Updated: 2020-02-17
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:15:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 19,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22746157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilyInTheSnow/pseuds/LilyInTheSnow
Summary: The Winter Soldier recognizes the red, white, and blue of the shield carried by the blonde. He doesn't know how or why. It's not until the second time he sees the blonde who's wearing a ridiculous red, white, and blue suit that he realized why he had recognized the shield. The guy was Captain America. The goodest of the good guys and definitely not the one the Asset should be fighting.Or Gay Disaster Bucky breaks his conditioning because he knows he shouldn't be fighting Captain America, helps end Project Insight, joins The Avengers, and maybe falls in love with Steve Rogers. How does this wooing thing work? Not that he's trying to woo Steve. That would just be silly. The chocolates, flowers, and gun are just things Steve has to have.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Series: Nunca Te Hare Llorar (I'll Never Break Your Heart) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1637614
Comments: 62
Kudos: 476





	1. Quit Playing Games With My Heart

**Author's Note:**

> Bucky and Steve didn't grow up together. Bucky's just seen him around before during the war.  
> This was beta'd by the super awesome Panthergyrl and SergeantFreezerburn, here on AO3. They are panthergyrl and shout-out-into-the-void on Tumblr respectively. <3<3<3 Thank you!!! Any remaining errors are my own.
> 
> Panthergyrl also made a kickass playlist to go with this! It can be found by copying and pasting the link from below. AO3 ain't letting me add a link for whatever reason. ugh. anyways, go listen!!!!
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLZ2p8FlrYcy5AiKbWzt5TYcCpnLcikVEO
> 
> A final thank you goes to Bear_Shark for the title.

The Asset knew that shield. Knew the red, white, and blue as surely as he knew he wasn’t supposed to be fighting the guy carrying it. He didn’t fucking know how he knew, but he did. His muzzle, the monstrosity they’d strapped to his face like he was a fucking monster (and maybe he was but how the fuck would he know?) got yanked off his face and the blonde, the target that should never have been a target, stared at him with wide, confused eyes. Yeah him too, pal. The fucking dork with the wings kicked him and sent him flying and then the tiny redhead showed up with a grenade launcher and what the fuck was going on? He fucking booked it. It would get straightened out later.

It wasn’t until the next time that he saw the blonde, wearing a ridiculous red, white, and blue suit that he realized why he had recognized the shield. And it was only after they'd beaten the shit out of each other. He'd been wiped, it wasn't his fault it had taken him a little bit to remember. The guy was Captain America. The goodest of the good guys and definitely not the one the Asset should be fighting. 

It was worth the raging migraine, confusion, and general fuckery when he and Captain America were standing side by side on the bank of the Potomac and watching the world, and Hydra, burn around them.

“So? You want a free apartment while we get shit straightened out? I’m assuming you’re not Hydra. Since you just helped us take them down and all.”

Fucking hell, Captain America was too decent for his own good. “Not sure that’s a good idea. My head’s all fucked up.”

“Join the club, pal.”

“You don’t understand. It’s all…” He shook his head slowly and closed his eyes, his head still aching like a motherfucker and nausea rolling in his gut.

“So, it ain’t gonna be easy. Nothing worthwhile ever is.”

This fucking guy. Jesus Christ. If he was this much of an idiot it definitely explained his friends being protective of him. “You’re an idiot.”

“It’s been said. Come on. I’ll buy you a beer.”

“Alcohol doesn’t affect me-" (he did know that much, Strike had shoved a feeding tube up his nose and filled his stomach with alcohol before to see if they could get him drunk) "-and you don’t want me drunk anyway. There’s no telling what could happen. I’m telling you I ain’t safe to be around, you moron.”

“You’re from Brooklyn? The accent, it sounds like home.”

“I don’t even know my own fucking name, Champ. Not sure where I’m from.”

A heavy hand landed on his shoulder, making him flinch, but it didn’t try to push him to his knees or grip too tightly so he tolerated it. “We’ll figure it out.”

That had been a little over a year ago. Steve, he was Steve now, had taken Bucky to New York with him. Sam and Natasha had followed them. The two of them being smart, well smarter than Steve at least, and keeping a close eye on him. Steve hadn’t told him where they were going and he’d followed blindly because he’d still had the migraine, one that hadn’t subsided for damn near two months, when all the drugs had finally filtered out of his system (And regardless, he had a feeling he would've followed the guy anywhere, scrambled head or not.) 

The nightmares and slowly returning memory had been expected. The knowledge that he’d killed Stark’s parents had not been and made him nearly lose his shit and had resulted in a very tense conversation with Tony where the inventor admitted that he knew Bucky had done it, hadn’t had a choice, and could they please never speak about it again, but that arm looks fucking painful and I can make you a new one if you let me play with this one after. Somehow Bucky had wound up spending a lot of time in Stark’s lab and the new arm had led to new gear which had led to him fighting with them whenever they were needed even though he thought he and Steve going out fighting together was overkill, but whatever. They were effective.

He was still working on normal. Even after a year. He didn’t think he’d ever find it or get close. Especially since he lived in a madhouse with a stupidly cute super soldier who somehow managed to heap trouble on himself, an archer who spent more time than one should either eating pizza with his dog, drinking coffee, or climbing out of dumpsters, a redheaded assassin that he had trained when she’d been a child, Stark who was self explanatory, a former pararescue who seemed sane at first, but was just as batshit as the rest of them, an alien god type dude that popped in and out at random, and a dweeby unassuming scientist that turned into the fucking Hulk. And hadn't that been a fucking trip and a half? Seeing Bruce turn into Hulk for the first time had fucking terrified him and it had taken Steve hours to calm him down. It had taken a couple months for Bucky to stop being scared of Bruce. He had felt terrible about it afterward because Bruce was such a nice dude, and nice dude that he was, he had understood. Now they meditated and did yoga together once a week.

One of these assholes was always blowing shit up, bringing trouble home with them, dragging him out into trouble, or showing up at his apartment at random and forcing him to watch a movie with them. No matter what time of day or night it was. All of these bitches were certifiable. Himself included and possibly the worst of the lot of them, but they were good people. A forgiving bunch. An eclectic group of crazy bastards with hearts of gold. He was still working on normal, but Steve made him lose every bit of sanity he thought he might've restored, if he'd ever had any to begin with.

He got jittery and sweaty and his heart trembled and his lungs didn't work right. He couldn't think and he got confused and he lost his train of thought. And, like now, when he saw people smiling and being friendly with Steve he got angry and started plotting against them. He didn't fucking know why, but right now he wanted to rip the barista's head clean off their shoulders just because they'd been nice to Steve. A little too nice. What the fuck?

"You're glaring again," two voices broke him from his plans. Natasha and Clint had taken to telling him when he was glaring so he could work on stopping his resting murder face. It wasn't his fault. Technically. He sighed and looked down at the table, confusion still dancing through his mind. Why did people being nice to Steve make him so irrationally angry? It didn't make sense. Steve was his own person. He didn't need supervision or anything. Didn't, currently, need Bucky's protection or help. So what the fuck, brain?

"You should tell him." He grunted and raised an eyebrow at Clint. "How you feel. You should tell him."

What the fuck was Clint going on about?

"Barnes?" He looked to Natasha and she reached forward and patted his hand with a sad smile. "You don't know, do you? Why you get weird around him. Why you get non-verbal around him so much."

"Yeah. You get non-verbal sometimes, but not nearly as much as you do with Steve."

He shook his head and picked up his coffee to take a drink. He didn't know what they were blathering about.

"You're in love with him, Barnes."

He choked on his coffee and sat his cup down on the table with a shake of his head. See? Certifiable. He wasn't in love with Steve. That would just be weird. Why would he be in love with a guy he couldn't even talk to? They were so wrong. He couldn't even fucking talk to tell them how wrong they were, but managed a glare as he wiped the coffee off of his face. 

He was sure it was some kind of brain issue. Some past trauma working its way to the front of his mind when he was around Steve. Probably because he had remembered how he knew Steve was Captain America. Bucky had fought in World War II. Had read the comics just like the rest of his unit. Had seen the newsreels before he'd gotten captured and tortured and brainwashed and had re-watched them after remembering. He'd gone with Steve down to D.C. to the Smithsonian and seen the Captain America exhibit. He'd handled most of it okay, but something had triggered his fucked up mind and he'd gotten lost in his head. When he'd finally come back to himself he was in a dark room, huddled close to Steve, and there had been a movie on. An old black and white film that Steve had done before the war. When Captain America was propaganda instead of a soldier. Steve had been talking to him in a quiet voice. Telling him how stupid and embarrassed he had felt while filming. How awkward he'd been. Not yet used to being seen. He'd gone from someone people had literally tripped over to someone people flocked to and hadn't known how to handle it.

Bucky had sighed and fallen asleep in that dark room, surrounded by Steve. Coincidentally, that was also when the weird physiological symptoms and his tendency to go non-verbal around Steve had started. He'd gotten non-verbal sometimes anyway. On days when he just couldn't deal with talking, still did sometimes, but after that he'd gotten especially bad with it around Steve.

Sometimes his brain was weird. It didn't mean he was in love with Steve.

"Heads up, Barnes. Here comes your man."

Bucky flipped Clint off and if he sat up a little straighter when Steve sat down with them it was because it wasn't proper to slouch at the table and not because he was trying to impress Steve without realizing it. He managed a small smile for Steve, wiggled his fingers in a wave hello, and Steve smiled at him so wide that his eyes crinkled.

"Another no talking day?" Bucky nodded and Steve patted his arm. "That's okay."

Not really, Bucky thought, but Steve and the rest of them never made him feel bad about his non-verbal days. Each of them had their own ticks anyway. Steve cleaned, obsessively sometimes, when he had nightmares. Natasha and Clint went down to the gun range and then the gym and sparred. Bruce got anxious and accidentally turned into the Hulk and sparred with Thor. Tony made new suits and/or accidental deadly robots. Sam cooked and you always knew when he was having issues with his nightmares or PTSD because the kitchen on the common floor would be filled with cookies and cakes and pies. Thor got drunk and tossed lightning bolts through the TVs. And Bucky? He got non-verbal, fell into himself and couldn't climb back out for a while sometimes. They had a team of therapists. Something Tony's Pepper had insisted on when they had all moved into the tower. Even Thor went when he was there. It helped. Not as much as they all wished it would, but it helped. Except not with Bucky's weird, sweaty, funky breathing, trembly, heart situation. Though he hadn't actually talked to his therapist about that.

He didn't plan on it either. She'd want to talk it out, examine every facet of it, and honestly it was just some weird physiological thing anyways. Like now. He was getting nervous and jittery and knew it wasn't the coffee. Caffeine didn't work on him. It was a stress response or something.

"You're okay, Buck." Steve leaned close and whispered in his ear and he had to hold back a shudder. What a weird thing to happen.

When they got back to the tower Barton peeled off from the group to go to his apartment because Lucky was up there alone and Steve left to go talk to Tony. When it was just him and Natasha in the elevator he invited her to his apartment where they wouldn’t be overheard by man or machine. No one could know what he wanted to ask her about. As soon as they got inside his apartment he turned to confront her.

“Okay. What you and Barton said at the coffee shop. How would someone know? I mean-obviously I’m not in love with him, but if someone was, how would they know?”

"Love is for children."

“You and Barton love each other.” He knew they did. Clint told him all the time.

"Sorry, the Russian in me just comes out sometimes." She sighed, then walked him over to the couch and sat him down. “He smiles at you and it’s like the sun breaking through the clouds.Your heart races and your palms sweat. You get nervous. You can’t breathe.”

“That sounds like a panic attack. Except the smiling thing.”

“It’s close. Google it, Barnes. Talk to your therapist about it even, but do something. You pining over him is cute now, but it won’t be later.”

“I’m not pining.” He didn't pine. He wasn't a hundred percent sure what pining even was, but he knew he didn't do it.

“Google it.” She leaned close and kissed his cheek, then stood and walked out of his apartment.

He was not going to Google it. Absolutely refused to. He would never look up something so stupid. 

Three minutes later he was cursing himself for a fool. He had known he was a disaster. Ever since he’d broken loose from Hydra’s bullshit, but this? This was just ridiculous. He’d been brainwashed for the better part of seventy years and frozen for a lot of it. How was he supposed to know he’d fallen in love with Steve? There, he’d admitted it. That didn’t mean he had to admit it to anyone else though. But maybe he’d want to ask Steve out on a date or something. How did one do that? It’s not like he could just walk up to big, blonde, and beefy and ask him on a date. Could he? He couldn’t even talk around Steve, how would he even fucking ask? Natasha and Clint would know, but he’d have to admit that they were right and he’d rather die. He could ask Stark, but he’d seen what kind of disasters the man caused when he wasn’t even trying to and Bucky was enough of a disaster on his own. Bruce would make him tea and tell him that he just needed to tell Steve how he felt. Thor would get him drunk and tell him the same. Thor actually had liquor strong enough to get him and Steve drunk. It was neat, but he still didn’t trust himself to drink. Didn’t know if he ever would. Maybe one day. Sam would give him shit for it, if he admitted it to him. In a friendly manner, but still. No, he couldn’t ask anyone else. He’d have to figure it out on his own. 

He used to be suave, charming, rakish. He remembered it. He used to be able to charm the pants off of a store mannequin. The skirts off the girls at the queer bar he’d frequented before he’d gotten drafted for the war. The pants off of them when they weren’t in drag for the night. It couldn’t be that hard to figure it out again. He’d be fine. He could do it.

He couldn’t do it. 

He’d had it planned. The next time he and Steve were in the same room together he’d just let him know he wanted to take him on a date. It was easy and to the point. If Steve said no that would be the end of it and he’d be heartbroken, but he’d live. And even if he couldn’t physically bring himself to say the words he had it written down on a piece of paper and he’d practiced his smirk in the mirror. It looked more smarmy than he remembered it being, but he’d been told plenty when he was younger that it was quite charming. Maybe it was the long hair and scruff that he sported now instead of baby smooth skin and hair that’d been slathered in pomade.

Either way, he would’ve been fine, but then Steve had walked into the kitchen wearing one of his super tight shirts and his tiny running shorts that left absolutely nothing to the imagination, oh Jesus fuck he hadn't even been wearing underwear and he was definitely not circumcised, and Bucky’s brain had short circuted like usual and he’d run out of the room in a horny gay panic and went straight to his apartment to jump in the shower and pretend to use cold water and be a decent person. Instead, he’d jerked off in record time and hidden in his bedroom for the rest of the day. So the asking Steve out on a date and confessing his feelings thing really wasn’t working out all that well. He had to step up his game. In his defense, all of his flirting had been seventy-five years or so ago. A lot had happened since then.

He decided he’d buy Steve something instead since he couldn’t talk to him. A gift of some sort. Something impractical. Bucky went out and bought the largest box of chocolates he could, had the lady in the shop write Steve’s name on it in pretty flowing cursive, people still liked getting chocolate as a gift right? And had been on his way back to the tower with it when some asshat had crashed into him on a bicycle. The box, the dick on the bike, and the bike had gotten slightly squashed and Bucky had been about to leave the dude there, but then he’d felt bad because the guy probably had a concussion or a broken something or other so he’d waited in the heat for help to show up, most likely melting Steve’s chocolates in the process, then hurried home. He’d found Steve, well Friday had found Steve for him, hanging out with Sam and Bucky had gone to Sam’s apartment to give Steve the chocolates and maybe ask him out, but as soon as Sam had opened the door and Bucky had seen Steve sitting on the couch in his stupid too tight white t-shirt that clung to Steve's everything, he’d panicked and wound up tossing the box in Steve’s general direction and then booking it out of Sam’s apartment. 

Once he’d been brave enough to leave his apartment he’d found the box on the table in the kitchen of the common floor. He lifted the lid and saw that the majority of the chocolates were gone, save some that had obviously been melted.

“Thanks for the chocolate, Buck.”

He whirled around with a knife in hand and Steve held his hands up in surrender. Bucky couldn’t help but drag his eyes down Steve’s body, over perfect pecs and abs to where Steve’s shirt had ridden up above the waistband of his jeans, and saw a line of golden hair trailing under snug denim. He whimpered, grit his teeth, and then tucked his knife away.

“Still can’t talk?”

Bucky shook his head, growled, and thunked his forehead with the palm of his hand. He felt so fucking stupid. He knew he wasn’t, that it wasn’t his fault he couldn’t talk around Steve now, but knowing didn’t help him _not_ feel like an idiot. He was working on it. It was a process. His therapist said so.

“Hey, it’s okay, Buck. It’s just something you gotta work through.”

Bucky nodded, knew he looked pitiful, and sighed. _I love you, damn it. I got the biggest crush on you. I want you to rail me into next week._ Bucky huffed, picked at his metal fingers, then gave Steve a weak smile and left. He’d get the flirting thing figured out one of these days. Soon hopefully, before he thought of anything else stupid.

Like randomly attacking Steve in the hallways. Bucky figured since the chocolates failed, due to no fault of his own because he definitely hadn’t chickened out, that he’d teach Steve better self awareness. Steve should learn to keep his guard up better. Even at home. Even if he was all super soldiery. So he’d waited around like a creeper for Steve to be walking around and then dropped down on him from the air vent. He’d gotten thrown to the ground by Steve for his efforts.

“What the hell, Bucky?”

He whined, dropped his head to the floor, and mimed keeping his eyes open wide.

“Keep my eyes open? Buck, we’re safe. I know you’ve been through a lot, but I promise we’re safe here.”

Hell, he knew that. If he didn’t feel safe he’d never sleep. Steve didn’t understand though. Steve had the self awareness of a slug just waiting for someone to pour salt on him. He needed to be more aware of his surroundings.

“Are you okay, Bucky?”

Hell no, he wasn’t okay. Now he’d made himself paranoid and was going to worry about some asshole pouring salt on Slug Steve. Ugh. There wasn’t even a real slug, damn it. And he was back to square one. 

Well, square one if it meant jerking off in the shower because he’d just realized Steve was straddling him and practically sitting on his dick. He had to go. He nodded, squirmed out from under Steve and ran back to his apartment and into his shower to have another pity jerk off session.

His next gift idea was slightly better though possibly more threatening than random hallway attacks. He bought Steve a gun. Captain America didn’t carry a gun presently, but Bucky had seen him during the war and had seen the newsreels besides and knew that he used to carry one. He should carry one again just in case. His shield might get stolen or something and as much as Bucky knew Steve liked to think he could literally punch his way out of any and every situation, he needed to have a gun on him. Bucky might’ve had some less than savory but still mostly decent contacts and he’d gotten a good deal on a gun. He was pretty sure Steve would like it since it was technically military issue. The SIG Sauer M18 was a very nice gun and Steve would be lucky to have it. It came with one seventeen round magazine and two twenty-one round magazines. He got extras and several boxes of ammo. You could never have too much ammo. Besides, Steve would probably need to practice with it since he hadn’t carried one in so long.

Bucky had carried the case with him everywhere in the tower, just in case he ran into Steve, and didn’t register how terrified everyone looked until Friday had called his attention to it. Oops. He’d sheepishly made his way to Steve’s apartment and shoved the case into Steve’s perfect muscly arms as soon as the door was opened.

“What’s this?” Bucky scuffed the toe of his boot on the floor and shrugged. “Another present, Buck?” He watched as Steve opened the case and saw the very moment Steve decided he wouldn’t keep it. He groaned and Steve looked up at him, meeting his eyes. “It’s really nice and I appreciate it, but I don’t use a gun.”

He opened his mouth to try and speak, but gave up and tapped his temple instead. He didn't want to make more of an ass out of himself.

“You remember?” Bucky nodded and Steve sighed. “You remember me carrying one during the war. You saw me?” Bucky nodded again. Yeah, he’d seen the dumb blonde punk back then. Steve had only been in camp for a few days and Bucky had been too busy to meet him unlike some of the other guys in his unit. Steve had carried a gun the entire time. He’d seen him later during a battle and even seen Steve using the gun. He needed to use it again just in case his shield got lost. “Buck, is this about you not feeling safe?” No, damn it. Ugh. He shook his head and jabbed Steve in the center of his chest with a finger. “About me being safe?” Bucky nodded, pointed at the shield braced against the arm of Steve’s couch and mimed an explosion. He couldn’t think of another way to put it. He really needed Clint to teach him to sign. “In case my shield gets destroyed? Bucky, it can’t be destroyed. It’s the strongest metal on Earth. Same stuff your arm’s made out of.” Argh. Know what? Steve was dense, Bucky couldn’t talk to him, and luck was not on his side. He waltzed into Steve’s apartment, grabbed a pencil off the coffee table, covered Steve’s shield with the throw off the back of the couch, and then waved the pencil over it like a magic wand. “Oh! In case it disappears! Lost? Lost. In case I lose it.”

Bucky grinned and pointed at his own nose then at Steve.

“I’m out of practice with them. Can you help me?”

Bucky smirked, hoped he looked dashing instead of douchey, and nodded. Abso-fucking-lutely.

Not. 

It wasn't technically his fault. Honest. It was Steve's. He wouldn't tell Steve that, because Steve was an angel that didn't need to know his own faults, but it was totally Steve's fault. Bucky had been perfectly fine, albeit kind of jittery and sweaty, when showing Steve how to field strip the gun, no tools required, and how to put it back together. The magazine release, how to change them out, the safety. That it was made to be ambidextrous just in case Steve ever wanted to switch hands with it. How to change the magazine release to the other side if he did switch hands. He showed him everything he needed to know, inside and out, and then led him into the shooting range. They both got goggles and ear protectors, even though Steve protested against them. Bucky had given him his best murder glare and Steve had given him a sheepish smile and put the protective gear on without another word.

Bucky hadn't realized how close he would actually have to be to Steve until it was too late. Steve had asked him to demonstrate shooting with the gun first and Bucky didn't think anything of it until Steve pressed right up against his left side to watch him while he shot with his right. He had tensed, he wasn't used to people being all up in his Corn Flakes like that, especially Steve people, and Steve had explained that he wanted to see better so Bucky had nodded. It was important to be able to see properly. He shot all seventeen rounds in the magazine, showing Steve the proper grouping he should strive for. When he'd turned his head to make sure Steve had been paying attention Steve hadn't even been looking at the target paper. He'd been staring at Bucky wide eyed with dilated pupils and wet lips. Little huffing breaths that fluttered against Bucky's skin. Sweat dotting Steve's face. Bucky had checked him for a fever, just in case he could actually get sick, watched the way Steve's eyes fluttered shut, and how he swallowed heavily when he placed his hand on Steve’s forehead. Steve ran hot like he did so Bucky had known he didn't have a fever. Maybe he'd just been nervous about handling a gun for the first time in ages? Bucky shrugged to himself, dropped his hand, and then moved out of the way. Steve swayed where he stood, eyes fluttering open slowly, then he shook himself and did his best approximation of how Bucky had shown him how to stand. And then _he_ was all up in _Steve's_ Corn Flakes and oh. _Oh._ That was...that was really close. He was pressed against him from shoulder to ankle as he used his hands to pat at Steve and move his body into the proper stance. His left hand rested on Steve's hip and his right slid down Steve's arm to his wrist to level the gun right. Steve had shifted even closer to him and Bucky had wondered why - while also having a slight panic attack - and then Steve had started firing the gun, the recoil jostling both of them slightly because Bucky had been too distracted to steady them, and when Steve had finished Bucky had seen that Steve's grouping was fucking terrible and there were only ten holes in the paper out of twenty-one bullets. Steve was a terrible fucking shot. One that got progressively worse. By the third time Bucky had switched out the magazines, he was hard as a fucking rock, sweating profusely, shaking so badly he couldn't get either hand to work, and he had some weird ticking and grunting situation going on. Probably it was hormonal or a stress response from rubbing up against Steve for so long. Steve had accidentally brushed his hip against Bucky's dick, for the fourth fucking time Rogers, oh, my God! and it was game over. Sorry, Steve, shooting lessons are postponed. Steve didn't know Bucky liked him as much as he did so it wasn't really his fault, but it was definitely Steve's fault he’d had to leave because he would have come in his pants like a teenager if Steve had brushed against him one more time. Christ. He'd whimpered and run away straight to his shower where he'd barely had his hand on his dick before he was coming against the tiles. Who knew someone could be that sexy while having absolutely shitty fucking aim? 

It should've been embarrassing, but for some reason Steve being inept with something made Bucky think it was cute. Ugh. It was cute that he was a shitty shot, but hot as fuck when he brushed up against Bucky. Did Steve even realize how close they'd been? So close to Bucky that he could've kissed him. They could've rubbed off on each other right there at the shooting range, dirtied each other up, right there surrounded by gun fire.

His cock twitched at the idea and yeah, okay. What the hell, twice was fine. He rested his forehead against the cool tiles as he stroked himself, biting back whimpers even though he was in the privacy of his own shower. He imagined himself and Steve hidden behind the dividers at the range. Kissing each other and grinding against each other. Their jeans hastily shoved down and out of the way. Hands wrapped around each other’s cocks as they gasped and moaned into each other’s mouths, noises lost under the sound of rapid gunfire. He’d use his left hand on Steve so the plates and grooves would drive him wild. They’d come all over each other, hot and wet and sticky, panting and writhing. He squirmed with a whine and came against the tiled wall a second time.

He probably should’ve felt guilty about it, but whatever guilt he’d ever had had been used up after he’d broken his programming and gotten away from Hydra. He mostly just wished Steve was in the shower with him. He sighed, washed up, and got out to find clothes. Since he wasn't planning on going anywhere he dressed in a pair of boxers and his light up unicorn house shoes and went to make himself a smoothie as he tried to decide what to woo Steve with next. He’d failed so far, but something had to work. There had to be something he could do where he wouldn’t chicken out or embarrass himself anymore than he already had.

The gun thing definitely hadn’t worked out, Steve was a super shitty shot and Bucky figured it’d take more than one day of training to get him better at it, but maybe Natasha could help Steve with it. She was a good shot. Clint would just goof off and do trick shots instead of helping Steve get better. He’d better ask Natasha before Clint got wind of the situation and decided to fuck up everything Bucky’d already taught Steve.

He grabbed his phone after fixing himself a smoothie and hit the tile for his and Natasha’s video chat, then cleared his throat as he waited for her to answer. When she did, she looked him over, saw that he was shirtless, and grinned. “Can I come over?”

“No! I need you to please teach Steve how to shoot. I got him a new gun. He used to carry one. I figure that’s why he doesn’t carry one anymore. Him being a shitty shot, I mean. Will you train him please? I’ll owe you.” Everyone knew it was dumb to owe a favor to a Widow, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

“Train Steve-” she cut herself off and smiled at him. A small unnerving smile. Fuck. “Sure, James. I’ll teach him how to shoot.”

“Good, thank you. ‘Cause he kept...rubbing up against me. I hadta leave.”

“James, you’ve got to just tell him already. I know it’s scary-”

“I’m not scared! I’m the Winter Fucking Soldier. I don’t get scared.” He didn’t! Honest. He just kind of...he had a very intense flight response, okay? “I'm not in love with him anyway. You need to be thorough when you teach him how to shoot. He’s really terrible.”

“I thought you were doing sneak attacks? He said it was sneak attacks this week.”

“No. He straddled me and I had to leave because popping a boner while he’s sitting on me would be bad so I got him the new gun instead." It took him a minute to realize what Natasha had said. "He talks about me?"

"Mmm. He said you threw a giant box of chocolates at his head the week before last. Then you dropped on him from the air vent in the hallway. So, now you're trying to woo him with a new gun?"

"I'm not wooing him! I'm getting him things that are pertinent to his survival."

"A giant box of chocolates is necessary for Steve's survival?"

Fuck, yeah. "Chocolate can cure all kinds of ailments."

She looked scandalized for a moment then nodded with a slight frown. "I'll give you that one. What are you going to woo him with next?"

" **_If_ ** I were wooing him, which I'm not to be clear, I'd probably get him a bunch of wildflowers. I know he likes to draw and paint. He could paint them. It would be nice." Fucking son of a bitch. He should've thought of flowers before. Flowers would've been perfect with the chocolates. Maybe he'd try those next? Steve didn't have allergies anymore so it would be fine.

"Okay. So can he expect a bouquet of wildflowers thrown in his face?" He flipped her off and hung up on her when she started laughing. He would not throw something that delicate at Steve's face. It would crush the flowers. He'd have to leave them out somewhere Steve would find them. He had to get the perfect flowers though.

He tapped the tile on his phone for Friday, the compromise he and Tony had come up with, and she beeped at him. "Um...where can I find flowers? Wildflowers, I mean. For Steve."

"Is this part of your effort to woo him?"

"I'm not wooing him! How'd you know about it anyways?"

"Ms. Romanov told the boss."

"Ugh. Tony knows?" Christ, he was surprised Tony wasn't there right now, pestering him and driving him crazy. “Don’t tell anyone, please. I want to do this on my own.” Everyone else would offer advice and while he appreciated all they’d done for him over the past year, he didn’t want this particular group of morons to help him. He just hoped they hadn’t already told Steve. Natasha was particularly nosy and gossipy about it for some reason. She was weird, but she and Clint were perfect for each other. They were both dorks. Even if Natasha kept that part of herself private. Or mostly private.

“I won’t Sergeant Barnes. Shall I make a list of flower shops?”

“Please. Thank you.”

In the end, after the judicious reading of reviews on Yelp, Bucky had wound up with a riotous bouquet of wildflowers. One probably far too large to be considered as 'just because' flowers, but whatever. It was pretty and the guy at the flower shop said it would make Steve happy so Bucky had gotten it. And probably he'd garnered some attention as he walked down the sidewalk back toward the tower, but it was fine. Steve was worth it. Bucky wasn't sure what kinds of flowers were in it, just that they were all types of wildflowers and the guy at the flower shop said they all meant 'I love you'. Unfortunately he'd also told Bucky that the closest flower he had to 'I want you to fuck me' was a weird leafy green thing with white flowers that smelled just like cilantro even though the guy had called it coriander. He said it meant lust and while it was apt, Bucky hated cilantro. It was too bitter and he wanted Steve's flowers to be sweet. 

The bouquet had a card on it, black with a cute little heart that was smiling, and Bucky had carefully written Steve's name on it in shaky handwriting. He used to be able to write neatly, he remembered writing love notes, but those days were behind him. Way behind. But he'd done his best, so it was fine. And now he was in the elevator waiting on Friday to let him out wherever Steve was so he could give him his flowers.

He wasn't at all prepared for the doors to open up to the common room or for everyone else to be gathered there. They all turned as one, all of them with knowing smiles, as if any of these losers knew anything at all. Except Steve. Steve was giving him a bright sunshine smile, like he was happy to see him, and wearing a blue long sleeved button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up to show off his magnificent forearms. Steve stood, his shirt gaping at the buttons obscenely because he did not know how to buy clothes that fit him, and Bucky saw that he was wearing black slacks that were _very_ snug in a certain crotch-type area. And when Steve turned to hand the tablet he'd been holding to Tony, Bucky also noticed that the black slacks were also _very, very_ snug in a sexy bubble butt-type area. Hng. He gulped and hid his face behind the giant bouquet and repeatedly hit the button to close the doors, but they remained stubbornly open. He was not meant to see such sights. At least, not while in view of certain people who would remain unnamed. Tony, Bruce, Natasha, Sam, Clint, and Thor. At least there weren't any new people like the time Tony, Bruce, and Thor turned Jarvis into Vision because they were fucking around with weird glowy stick things they didn't understand. There hadn't been very many murderbots and the ones that made it out of the tower Vision had taken care of. Vision lived in Sokovia now with his girlfriend and her brother. Which was good, Bucky didn’t like new people. They were shifty and untrustworthy and stared at him weird.

"Bucky?" He peeked one eye out from behind the flowers and saw Steve walking toward him. "Hi, Buck." Bucky waved at him with the flowers since he was holding them with both hands. The bouquet was kind of large. He may have bought all of every flower in it from the flower shop. He didn't know how to do small gestures, okay? Besides, Steve wouldn't get the small gestures. He seemed rather oblivious.

"Are those for me?" Bucky nodded, _gently_ shoved them into Steve's arms, and then squeezed past him to make his escape via the emergency stairs. The door was locked, fucking hell he hated all these dweebs. Except Steve, Steve was an angel who could do no wrong compared to the tower's other denizens. The rest of these conniving assholes, the ones who were currently giggling at his strategic retreat, could rot. 

He finally got the door opened and raced down the stairs to his floor to hide in his apartment.

That hadn't gone too badly. Better than the shooting range. There'd been less Steve rubbing up against him in increasingly clingy ways. Definitely less shitty shooting. Seriously, why had Steve even carried a gun before? He was terrible. Natasha should be able to teach him to shoot properly.

The next time Bucky left his apartment, he had a feeling they weren't taking him out to fight with them because he was still avoiding Steve sorta, he only left because he'd run out of food and had forgotten to order more. He needed cereal. Preferably something with those funky little marshmallows in it, but he'd eat whatever was there. So he made his way to the kitchen on the floor they all shared when they didn't want to be alone and stopped to stare at the new painting on the wall that had been bare up until then. It was Steve's flowers. His 'I love you' flowers. All of them. He walked toward it, inhaling the scent of new paint, and raised his hand to touch the delicate brush strokes.

"It's still wet." He jerked his hand back and gave Steve a guilty smile. "It's okay. Just wanted to make sure you knew." Bucky nodded, eyed Steve carefully as he reached into the cabinet, saw the play of muscle over his ribs as he stretched, bit his bottom lip when he saw the box of Corn Flakes Steve was grabbing out of the cabinet, and then turned back to the painting before he got caught staring at him like he wanted to eat him instead of the cereal.

"Did you know Corn Flakes were invented to stop people from masturbating? I tried them. It doesn't work. Dr. Kellogg was a hack." His eyes widened in shock. Holy fucking shit! The first time in months he'd been able to speak to Steve and that's what comes out of his mouth? Sweet baby Jesus he was such a fucking disaster!

"I did not know that."

"Yeah. I gotta go." He spun around to leave and Steve held the box out to him with a grin.

"You need some?"

Bucky frowned. He'd just told Steve they hadn't worked. Maybe he didn't hear that part? "They don't work."

"For food, Buck. I'm assuming it's why you came here since you've been locked in your apartment for a week."

He nodded, snatched the box out of Steve's hand, and then ran out of the kitchen. He couldn't fucking believe the first words out of his mouth to Steve in months were him telling that Corn Flakes don't actually curb masturbatory tendencies. Christ. He wanted to whine at someone about it, but everyone he knew would probably make fun of him for it. Maybe Tony wouldn't though. Or not as much as Clint and Natasha. If Tony did make fun of him then he could just tell Pepper and she'd take care of it. Pepper was nice. Most of the time. Mostly she was only mean to Tony when he was being dumb and not sleeping or eating for days at a time.

He went down to the lab and let himself in. He didn't know how many people had the code to get in, but Natasha, Clint, Thor, and Steve always knocked. Pepper, himself, and Bruce were the only ones he knew of that had a code for the door.

"Hey Murderbot 1.0, are you still trying to woo our dear captain?" Tony spun around from where he'd been tinkering on who knows what.

"I'm not trying to woo him." Bucky flopped down in the chair that Tony had bought him when they realized he had an issue with chairs in lab-type settings. It was a pink recliner, covered in flowers and unicorns, and had pink lighted cup holders. Bucky may or may not have a pink unicorn covered tumbler that matched. "I gotta tell you something. You can't laugh about it."

"Okay." Tony nodded, went so far as to put his tools away, and sat on his hands to hold still.

"You know my...talking issue."

"Yeah. You're getting better though."

"I talked to Steve just now."

Tony grinned. "That's great." Bucky frowned at him while digging a handful of Corn Flakes out of the box and his smile fell. "That's not great?"

"I went to the kitchen because I was out of food. I wanted the cereal with the weird marshmallows in it. I saw the painting of the flowers I gave Steve the other day. I was looking at it and Steve came into the kitchen. He got the Corn Flakes down. So I told him about Dr. Kellogg being a hack because they were made to prevent masturbation, but they don't work." He shook the box at Tony then shoved a handful of cereal in his mouth while Tony gaped at him.

"Wow. I mean...it's good you talked to him, but that's a hell of a conversation starter. Did you manage to say anything else?"

"He asked me if I wanted some so I told him they didn't work. Just in case he didn't hear me the first time. And he said for food, 'cause he figured that's why I left my apartment so I grabbed them and then I ran away and came down here."

"I don't know what to say."

"Tell me I'm not a complete fucking loser. That I actually have a fucking chance with him despite being inept at everything!" He growled, ate another handful of cereal, and caught the glass bottle of Coke that Tony threw at him. The old recipe made with sugar. Like it was supposed to be. He popped the top off with his thumb then sighed. "I used to be good at flirting. I remember it. I coulda had anyone I wanted. Usually did." Sometimes he got into a fight afterwards because the girls didn't mention their man when Bucky had been charming his way under their skirts at the queer bar. Except Susie, she and her man had an open relationship so he didn't care if she fooled around with Bucky.

"If the world only knew that you were still alive. I bet there's plenty of stories about Bucky Barnes flirting his way into everyone's beds."

"Just the girls at the bar."

"So the queer community in Brooklyn had someone to look up to. Did you stop to think that maybe the reason you're so bad at flirting with La Capitana is that you mean it?"

"I do mean it."

"No, I know. Just listen. I'm channeling my inner Pepper. She's smart about relationships. Before, you were either flirting to flirt or charming your way into their beds right?"

"Basically."

"But now you're flirting because you mean it. You love him so you're nervous, maybe even scared. And don't tell me you don't get scared," Tony added when Bucky glared at him and opened his mouth to speak. "We all get scared, Barnes. Especially when it's about something important."

"So what do I do?"

"That, I can't help you with, I'm a disaster too. We need Pepper for that. Come on. Let's go find her."

"Isn't she working right now?"

"I don't know, but it's me. She's always got time for me. And she'll make time for you. She adores you."

Tony had a point. Bucky shrugged, stood, and carried his Coke and cereal with him as they left the lab. Someone he knew had to be smart enough about relationship stuff to help him. 

Pepper took a break and ordered lunch for them, making Bucky give up his box of Corn Flakes but letting him keep his Coke. She told him that communication is an essential part of any relationship. (As if he can fucking communicate with Steve.) Honesty and trust too, she added. Respect, like he doesn't respect the shit out of Steve. Happiness, he could totally make Steve happy. Safety, he would protect the shit out of Steve. Compromise, he wasn't sure what he and Steve would need to compromise about, but he was pretty sure they could do it. And commitment, he would be totally committed to Steve and their future babies. Provided Steve wanted them. Bucky wanted two, both girls, but if Steve didn't want kids then they could compromise and adopt only one. Or get a puppy or something. That was an issue for Future Bucky, though. Present Bucky still had to figure out the flirting thing, because as much as he adored and appreciated Pepper, her advice on how to get Steve to go on a date with him was just terrible. Just ask him? Seriously? How was that good advice? He'd told her about the chocolate debacle. _And_ the sneak attack. _And_ the gun thing where Steve had been rubbing up against him and being all flushed and sweaty from nerves or something. Somehow she had still thought just asking him was a good idea. Poor deluded Pepper. He told her he would try and then he'd kicked Tony in the shin so he'd change the subject to distract Pepper from giving him more terrible advice.

Bucky needed something better. Bigger. A grand gesture that would tell even the most oblivious Steve how much he wanted to be with him.

It was hours, two pots of an experimental Stark-Banner blend of coffee, and a dozen bagels later, that Bucky finally came up with the perfect plan. He would teach Steve how to fight better without his shield. All he had to do was sneak into Steve's apartment, steal said shield, and hide it away somewhere Steve wouldn't find it. Bucky would leave it somewhere easy to get to though, just in case they got called out.

Bucky sweet talked Friday into gaining entrance to Steve's apartment, just to see if his flirting still worked or if he was as inept as he thought he was. She let him right in though, so maybe Steve was just oblivious? Either way Bucky snuck through Steve's apartment, studiously avoided looking at the few open sketchbooks lying around because they weren't his business, grabbed Steve's shield, and left. He tucked it away under his bed then went to get Steve from Natasha and Clint's where they'd kept him so Bucky could sneak into his apartment and steal his shield and hide it.

When Natasha opened the door she grabbed his arm and he let her pull him close enough to whisper in his ear. “You got this, Barnes.”

“I got this,” he whispered back. 

“You can do this.”

“I can do this.”

“Go get your man.”

“I’m going to go get my man. Oh my God! He’s not my man, you weirdo.” She smacked him upside the back of the head and he laughed then walked into the apartment to get Steve. He thought he’d be able to do the talking thing today, but when he saw that Steve was wearing a white tank top and dorky as hell looking basketball shorts that did nothing to hide how big his dick was, Bucky’s voice decide to fuck off like it usually did. He waved with a crooked smile then walked over to Steve and held his hand out, ignoring Clint’s little wistful sigh.

“We going somewhere, Buck?”

Bucky nodded and Steve took his hand, let Bucky pull him up, and then slotted their fingers together. What the hell Rogers? Bucky tried to shake him off, gently so as not to hurt his feelings, but only succeeded in making Steve hold his hand tighter. Well, shit. Clint gave him a thumbs up when he looked to him for help and he decided right then and there that Clint was useless and Natasha deserved better. His trembly heart, sweaty, jittery, having trouble breathing thing started up and he coughed to clear his throat. He met Steve’s eyes for a fleeting moment then practically dragged him out of Natasha and Clint’s apartment.

“Where are we going?” Bucky dragged Steve into the elevator with him then hit the button for the training room. “Oh, we should stop at my apartment and let me get my shield.” Bucky shook his head but let Steve push the button for his floor anyway. “I need it.” He sighed as the elevator rushed for Steve’s floor. Steve still had a hold of his hand, his palm was sweaty from it since they both ran hot and it was kind of gross, but also kind of nice anyway. Even if Steve was weird and wouldn’t let go of him. Why wouldn’t he let go? Was Steve having some kind of panic issue? Or was he just happy to see him so he wanted to hold his hand?

The doors opened and Steve dragged Bucky into his apartment, finally letting go of his hand when he realized the shield was missing. “What the fuck?” Bucky sighed, watching Steve rush from room to room looking for the shield then grabbed his arm when he came back through.

“S-Ste-” Fuck! He growled, looked away from the blonde, then sighed. “I took it.” Huh. The talking thing was easier when he wasn’t actually looking at Steve. Weird.

“Why? How did you even get in here?” Steve ducked around him and gripped his chin lightly then lifted his head. Bucky whined and tried to turn away. Why was Steve always so close to him? Steve turned him loose after a moment. “Bucky?”

“Training,” Bucky murmured.

“Without the shield?” Bucky nodded. “And you’ll give it back when we’re done?” Bucky rolled his eyes but nodded. Jesus, Rogers. What kind of guy did he think he was? If he wanted to keep the shield he never would’ve told him he had it to begin with. What a fucking nerd. “Okay.”

Bucky let Steve take his hand again and they walked back to the elevator.

"You've been talking more. I heard you talking to Natasha earlier." Steve sounded a little pouty and Bucky hoped he didn't think that he just wasn't talking to him. He'd feel bad if Steve thought that. "I'm glad, Buck." Bucky shrugged, shoulder bumping against Steve and reminding him that they were still holding hands. Was this a date thing? Did Steve think they were on a date? Shit. What if he did? Bucky didn't know what to do anymore. His memories of dates were vague at best and they weren't even his dates. He hadn't really gone on dates. Not even to hide how queer he was. His only reference was watching the girls at the bar handle their dates. He didn't think the same rules applied for this. For one, neither of them were in drag, and for two, Bucky hadn't technically dated at all. He'd just gone to the bar and flirted with whoever gave him a second glance or even a long and lingering first glance. 

"Hey, talking like you were, laughing like that? It's progress. Even if it doesn't feel like it. You're going to be just fine, Buck." He nodded and followed after Steve when he dragged him to the sparring mats. "Best out of five? Or did you have something special planned?"

Bucky honestly hadn't thought beyond getting Steve down to the training room. That and now that they were there Bucky realized a tactical error. He was going to have to touch Steve. Steve would be all breathless, and sweaty, and possibly shirtless and his stupid basketball shorts would be clingy and Bucky didn't know if his nerves or his libido was ready for that. Fucking hell.

He held up his hand with his fingers spread and Steve nodded then yanked him forward with the hand he was still holding and Bucky went flying to the sound of Steve's laughter filling the room. Steve was a cheating cheater who cheated. Bucky grinned, bounced on his toes, and threw himself at Steve.

He did okay being all up in Steve’s Corn Flakes until round four when Steve's shirt got hung up in the plates of his hand and torn halfway down the front. They had stopped, Steve ripped his shirt the rest of the way off and then helped Bucky get the shirt loose from his hand. Steve was right up against him, closer than when they’d been at the firing range, and Bucky gulped. 

Steve was sweaty, and shirtless, and breathing hard. His shorts were clinging indecently, not that Bucky was looking. For more than a few seconds at a time. Definitely not long enough to notice that Steve wasn’t wearing underwear. Steve was skimming his fingers over the palm of Bucky’s left hand, sending little jolts up his arm and down his spine. The delicate touch something he wouldn’t have been able to feel before Tony made him the new arm. Steve pulled the last of the fabric from between the plates and dropped it at their feet.

“There.” His fingers were still smoothing over Bucky’s hand and he held back a shudder. “All good?” Bucky nodded with a weak smile. “Still want to spar?” Bucky nodded again, they were tied. Though Bucky had thrown one of the matches because Steve had gotten clingy and Bucky had felt his dick against his thigh and tapped out in a panic.

Starting the fifth match had been the worst mistake of Bucky’s life. What he remembered of it anyway. He’d gotten distracted by Steve’s perfectly glistening muscles and somehow Steve had grabbed him and tossed him over his shoulder. Bucky landed on his knees, ready to push himself up off the floor, and had gotten tackled by Steve for his troubles. He wound up flat on the ground, face mushed into the mat, and with Steve plastered against him. Oh. That was...really, really close. Closer than anything so far. Steve’s dick was pressing into his ass, Bucky was hard as fucking nails, and was Steve subtly grinding against him or was it just because he was breathing heavy? Oh, God. He tapped out, too scared to find out the answer, then slithered out from under Steve and ran for his apartment. 

He barely made it into his shower before he was jerking off and if he whined Steve’s name when he came then it was his own business. Well, his and his right hand. Sometimes his left, but the plates would pinch if he wasn’t careful and he was too strung out from their sparring session to take his time.

Two hours later the call to assemble blared through the tower and Bucky grabbed Steve’s shield out from under his bed and raced down to the conference room they usually met in before grabbing their gear and leaving. He crashed into Steve in the hallway, causing him to bounce off of the shield and land on his ass. Bucky gave him an apologetic smile then pulled him up and handed him the shield.

“You look good with it, Buck.” Bucky was absolutely not blushing, he was flushed from exertion or something, as Steve took his hand and dragged him into the conference room. Every nerd in the room gave them a blinding grin as he tried to subtly pull his hand from Steve’s. He shook his head surreptitiously and Clint and Natasha pouted, Tony and Bruce sighed, Thor and Sam groaned with a roll of their eyes, and then money began to exchange hands. Bucky glared at them all as they pocketed their winnings. His murder glare must not be working right. None of them even seemed phased. He tried again and absolutely did not fucking pout when everyone continued to ignore him.

"What's going on," Steve asked with his Captain America voice so everyone would pay attention to him.

"That would be Hydra 2.0," Tony said as he flung his hands up. The holographic screens lit up, showing pictures and videos of a warehouse in Jersey. Of fucking course it was Jersey. "They haven't got much in the way of well...anything really, but best to nip it in the bud, right?"

Bucky nodded with a growl and Steve gave him a quick smile that looked positively evil. God, Bucky loved him.

"Let's go kick some ass, Buck." He wiggled their joined hands and Bucky grinned. Hell yeah, they'd kick some ass. But first they had to change into their uniforms and grab their gear and Bucky definitely wasn't sneaking glances at Steve while he changed out of his sweats and t-shirt and into the compression shirt and pants he wore under his nerdy stars and stripes that Bucky adored because they'd brought him back to himself. That would be creepy.

Sam kicked him and he grunted and snapped his gaze away from Steve to his own gear. "Man, I know you love him. Just fucking tell him already. It was cute at first, but now it's getting sad." Bucky glared at him, it still didn't fucking work, and Sam sighed. "Look, all you gotta do is tell him. He fucking adores you. Always has."

"He does?" He looked over to see Steve strapping on the custom holster for the M18 and grinned. He was actually carrying it! He hoped Steve's shooting had improved since their disastrous practice session, though. He didn't want Steve to accidentally shoot himself in the foot or anything.

"Yeah. Why do you think he's been holding your hand?"

"Oh."

"Mmm." Sam grinned at him and bumped their shoulders together. "Tell him, okay?"

"How much do you win?"

Sam laughed and Bucky frowned at him until he spit out a number. "Right now the pot is five hundred."

"I get half, if I tell him?"

"Sure." Bucky nodded and Sam clapped him on the shoulder then wandered off to go flirt with Natasha. She always flirted back and Clint watched them with amusement. Bucky didn't give it much longer before they all three were in a relationship. He smiled at them then finished tucking his weapons in their places on his suit and put on the mask. He had hated the damn thing at first, when he'd first gotten his mind back, but now he wore it as a fuck you to Hydra, so they would know who was coming after them, and Tony had added all kinds of features to it. He didn't have to worry about sticking a comms unit in his ear, or worry about needing a gas mask, or the need for an oxygen bottle.

The only thing Bucky had to worry about now was figuring out a way to tell Steve he loved him.


	2. As Long as You Love Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The epic conclusion! 😆
> 
> Stuff happens, things are confessed, a shower is shared.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly this could've probably gotten an M rating as ridiculous as this is, but meh. Better safe than sorry.

In hindsight, getting shot three times probably wasn't the best way to do it. Though it was probably less painful than actually telling him. Definitely less painful than the Corn Flake masturbation debacle.

They'd gotten to the facility, taken out everyone outside, and then gone in. It was easy. There wasn't a large staff on site and those that were, the guards and soldiers, were mediocre at best. Except one sneaky fucker that Bucky didn't know how they'd missed. Steve had been busy with one of the computers and even Bucky hadn't noticed the dickwad until he had heard the cocking of a gun. He jumped in front of Steve, even as Steve spun around with the shield, and wound up getting shot three times before he could shoot the asshole that had tried to kill his man. Future man. Potential man. Whatever. 

"Buck!"

"'m okay." He pushed Steve away gently and nodded toward the computer then booked it out of the room to check for more sneaky fuckers, ignoring the pain and the blood pooling in his boot from the shot to the thigh. The two on his side weren't bleeding that badly. Yet.

When they'd finished, Bucky had hopped on his motorcycle and raced back to the tower. He had bullet holes to patch up and he didn't want anyone trying to help him. Medical was still an issue and since they didn't have a local anesthetic strong enough for him and Steve, the shit was going to hurt regardless. He'd rather do it himself than try to let someone else help him.

That and he'd been berating himself for being a fucking idiot for throwing himself in front of the man with an actual fucking shield. He knew he was a disaster, but damn. It was getting worse. It was all Steve's fault really. 

He grabbed his med kit from under the kitchen sink and set it on the table, the medium sized pink toolbox thunking against the hardwood. Friday pinged him with a message from Tony saying Steve was trying to check on him, but they'd hold him off for as long as they could so he could patch himself up in peace. He groaned and instead of rushing through removing his gear, grabbed his KA-BAR and sliced through his uniform. It was faster that way and he had a couple extra besides. He kicked the remains of his clothes away, noticed he'd accidentally cut through his boxer briefs, grabbed a kitchen towel to put over his lap, and hopped up onto the table to start digging out the bullet in his thigh.

There was a knock on his apartment door while he was digging out the second bullet and he grunted again. Friday popped a screen up on the wall and he saw Steve still dressed in his suit and the shield strapped on his back. He shook his head with a small smile then nodded and started poking around for the bullet again.

His apartment door swung open and he heard Steve walking through the living room and grunted again when he heard his footsteps hit the tiles of his kitchen. He glanced up at Steve and saw the grimace on his face. Yeah, he knew he was a mess. What with all the blood and bandages haphazardly stuck over the wound on his thigh that he'd already stitched up and the one on his side that he hadn't gotten to yet. It was still leaking blood in slightly alarming amounts, but he was fine. He knew how much blood he could lose without passing out. He still had a couple pints to go and he'd be finished before then. 

"You took a bullet for me."

Bucky grunted and held up three fingers to point out that, yes his dumb, gay, ass took three bullets for the man that literally carried and used a shield more often than not.

"Three bullets."

Like Steve couldn't have told from the bandages and the fact that Bucky was trying to dig a bullet out from between two ribs.

"Can you tell me why? You left your position and threw yourself in front of me. You know I got the shield, Buck."

Yeah, like a dumbass.

Bucky shook his head, finally managed to get the bullet out and stitched himself up then started on the next one, cutting the entry wound bigger and then using his surgical tweezers to poke around for the bullet.

"Why would you do that? You could've gotten killed, Bucky."

Bucky took a deep breath and let it out with a huff then yanked the last bullet out and sewed himself up again. He did tell Sam he'd tell Steve finally and he might not be all that good at talking to him, but there were other ways to do that besides talking. He slapped bandages over the last two wounds then grabbed a hold of the kitchen towel he'd been using to preserve his modesty, and slid off the table.

He bit his bottom lip under the mask he'd been too busy to take off and stared at Steve for a long moment then reached up to take the mask off and threw it behind him to land on the table.

He opened his mouth to speak, growled a little when his words still wouldn't work, then leaned 

forward and pressed a quick kiss to Steve's lips. He hoped he wasn't fixing to get punched by the guy he just took three bullets for.

It was just a peck. A tiny thing, really, but it felt monumental, especially when Steve's eyes widened then went all lazy and half open.

"Oh."

Bucky nodded and absolutely did  **not** blush. He was a ninety-something super soldier assassin with a kill count longer than his arm. He didn't blush.

"You love me, Buck?" Steve was grinning like a nerd and Bucky was really, definitely, not blushing as he nodded. He was, however, deeply confused when he heard Steve whisper, "Thank fuck." And then he was being kissed within an inch of his life. His tiny kitchen towel got lost somewhere between them and then his hands were on Steve and Steve was backing him up against the table and holy shit balls it hurt when Steve cupped his hand over Bucky's ribs but he was still kissing him and had a hand fisted in Bucky's hair and it was amazing. Really it was, but he was still covered in blood and it was drying on his skin and getting sticky.

He pushed Steve back with a hand on his chest and a crooked smile. Patted him in consolation when he pouted, and then waved a hand down his body to point out the blood and yes he realized he kind of looked like those chicks showing the prizes on The Price is Right but whatever, he'd just gotten shot and lost a lot of blood.

"You want a shower, Bucky?" He nodded and reached between them to find his towel, though he supposed it didn't really matter now. "You need help?" And wow didn't this nerd sound hopeful for some reason? It hit him then that they were both hard and oh.  _ Oh. _ Uh...did he need help? Not really. He had his scrubby thing on a stick to reach his back and he had always managed before. But Steve had apparently caught the feels or whatever it was kids were calling it these days and Bucky honestly wouldn't mind having Steve naked in the shower with him and pampering him. 

Fuck it. Yeah, they could shower together. It would be fine. He'd put new bandages on after.

He nodded and got another kiss that absolutely did not have him smiling like a dope as he led Steve to his bedroom and into his en suite. He moved to start the shower, but paused when Steve put a hand on his shoulder.

"Let me get it, doll. Don't want to tear your stitches."

_ Oh. _ He'd never been called doll before. He didn't think. He had called people doll before and had seen their blushes, but he'd never understood why it worked so well until now. His blood felt fizzy like the Cokes Tony got him and maybe he actually was blushing this time. So fucking weird. Steve kissed his warm cheek then leaned down and started the shower, kept his hand under it to check the temperature.

"You like 'em hot, sugar?"

Jesus, Mary, and Joseph that was not fair. He nodded, feeling more than a little bit dazed, it was probably the blood loss getting to him, and Steve grinned.  _ He knew.  _ The fucker knew exactly how the words worked.

"Sit on the counter and I'll take your boots off, Buck."

He looked down to see his boots and nodded. He had forgotten he was still wearing them. He sat on the counter as Steve fussed with the water a bit more and was absolutely not staring at any perfect bubble butt type areas while Steve was leaned down over the edge of the tub. Okay, maybe he was a little bit, but since they’d already groped each other a little it was probably fine. Steve turned, caught him not staring at his butt, and grinned. Bucky smiled back until Steve dropped to his knees in front of him and Holy Mary Mother of God, Steve looked good on his knees. Bucky’s kitchen towel wasn’t really hiding anything as Steve started unlacing his boots. There was something almost sensual about it and it should’ve been weird probably, the way Steve was doing it, but it wasn’t. Bucky was probably enjoying it far too much. The way Steve’s hands, so big and calloused from his shield, moved so delicately over the leather of his boots, pulled the laces from the eyelets, slid the boot off of his foot. The way Steve stared straight into his eyes the entire time. It was...a lot. He loved it. Loved the way it made his heart race, made his palms sweat, and made everything except Steve disappear. When Steve finished he rested his hands on Bucky’s thighs, careful of the bullet wound on his right, and smiled up at him.

“Are you ready, baby doll?” Bucky may or may not have melted right off the counter in a puddle of crunchy cereal marshmallow flavored goo. “We should take your bandages off. We can put new ones on after.” He nodded and Steve stood and pulled the bandages off with minimal wincing from Bucky when the tape pulled at his skin. It was fine. He’d had worse. Steve held out his hands and Bucky took them, let Steve ease him off of the counter, and help him into the shower. Bucky realized his kitchen towel had gotten lost on the way to the shower and laughed. He didn’t even know why the hell he’d been hiding his junk from Steve anyway. Not like he hadn’t already seen it and felt it in the kitchen. He pulled the curtain around his bathtub closed so he wasn’t splashing water all over the bathroom and hid Steve from his gaze so he could undress without Bucky staring at him like a creeper. He’d get to see Steve naked in a few minutes anyway. He might’ve peeked out though and seen Steve shirtless and with his uniform pants undone and hanging off his hips. He did not whimper and make grabby hands.

At least not until Steve climbed into the shower completely nude. He finally got to see every inch of Steve instead of sneaky looks while they were gearing up and holy shit balls, he was not ready. His body was ready, but his mind was not and might've short circuited a little bit. More than usual. A lot. Hng. He'd always thought Steve was perfect but damn. He had a smattering of chest hair that lead down past the perfect V thing of his hips and straight to his dick and Bucky thought he'd fucking faint because there was no way in hell that thing would actually fit. He'd try. You could fucking bet he'd try, but he couldn't see how it would fit. Maybe they could work up to it?

"Fuck me."

"Not while you're hurt, Buck." He finally managed to tear his eyes away from Steve's dick and saw him smirking. Yeah, Steve could smirk. He had the biggest dick Bucky had ever freaking seen. Outside of porn anyway, but he was pretty sure most, if not all, of the giant ones on porn were fake. "Gonna clean you up, baby." Steve grabbed Bucky's bath scrubby thing and then paused when he saw Bucky's three bottles of body wash. "You want cotton candy, strawberry, or pomegranate?" Bucky pointed to the cotton candy scented one and Steve grabbed it and squeezed a dollop onto his bath scrubby.

Bucky closed his eyes and leaned against the shower wall with a sigh at the first gentle sudsy touch of his scrubby. The slow, easy glide of it over his skin felt like heaven, even when Steve slid it tenderly over his wounds. Bucky gasped and grabbed at Steve's shoulder when Steve swirled his thumbs over his nipples, teasing the nubs into hardness. He kept his eyes closed to keep from fainting when Steve dropped to his knees and his sudsy hands and Bucky's scrubby rested on his hips. When Steve's lips brushed over the wounds on his side his eyes snapped open without his say so. He bit his bottom lip as he watched Steve lean forward and brush his lips over the wound on his thigh. So very close to where Bucky wanted him to touch. Steve stared up at him and slid his hands and the scrubby down Bucky's thighs and he shuddered with another sigh.

"Buck?"

"Hmm?"

"Can I uh…" Steve slid his hands closer to Bucky's dick and he absolutely did not look like a fuckin' bobble head when he nodded. He wasn't sure he was gonna survive Steve washing his junk for him, but he'd try. He shuddered, closed his eyes so he wouldn't come the minute he saw Steve touch his dick, and prayed he didn't shoot off like a teenager. He whined when he felt the suds covered scrubby gliding over his hard cock, Steve being gentle but thorough, as he cleaned him. His hands left far sooner than Bucky wanted them too and he groaned, but was still fucking thankful because he really didn't want to get come all in his favorite scrubby. He'd have to throw it out and buy new and it was so hard to find good ones. 

Steve tapped the inside of his uninjured thigh and he immediately spread his legs then moaned when his re-sudded scrubby slid between them and a soapy hand followed, rolling his balls and then sliding further back to press knuckles into his perineum. He whined and grabbed hold of Steve's shoulders to keep from falling, fingernails digging into taut muscle, when Steve slid one finger even further back and rubbed the tip over his hole.

"Is it too much?" Bucky shook his head then nodded. "Okay, sweetheart." Steve's hands retreated and rubbed the scrubby over his legs and down to his feet. Scrubbing gently. "Let me get your back? Then I'll wash your hair."

Bucky nodded and let go of Steve's shoulders to turn around. He pressed his forehead to the shower wall and took a deep breath, wincing when it made the bullet wounds on his ribs twinge. "Easy, sugar." Bucky nodded and nearly moaned when he heard Steve drop his scrubby and felt Steve's hands massaging his shoulders instead. Steve's hands soothed up and down his back, knuckles digging into the small of his back right above his ass. Up and down his spine. Steve brushed his lips over Bucky's neck, just under his ear, and Bucky shuddered.

Holy shitballs he was not prepared for this. He'd imagined it yeah, but his imagination kinda sucked compared to the real thing. Steve musta got a way better version of the serum than the one Bucky had gotten. Soapy hands groped at his ass and he groaned and pushed back into the touch. Steve kissed his neck again and slid his hands to rest on Bucky’s hips for a moment before he pulled away. Bucky whined until Steve pulled him into the spray and he realized Steve was fixing to wash his hair. 

"Which shampoo?"

Bucky flailed a hand out toward his cotton candy scented shampoo and conditioner in one so the scent wouldn't clash with his body wash and he smiled when Steve picked it up.

Oh, damn. The first touch of Steve's hands in his hair had him sighing and melting against Steve. Probably it made his hair harder to wash, but whatever. His neck muscles were on vacation now. Steve could do all the heavy lifting. It was fine. When Steve pressed the tips of his fingers against Bucky's scalp and massaged the lather in small circles the rest of Bucky decided to go on vacation too. Good thing that Steve was all hot and buff and super soldier-y then.

Bucky whined when Steve's hands left his hair then gasped when Steve carefully lifted him up, turned him around and wrapped Bucky's uninjured leg around his hips. "Hold on to me?"

What? He couldn't even feel his fucking body. What he could feel of it felt like over cooked spaghetti noodles. Left arm, dumbass. Holy shit, Steve made him stupid! He wondered if it was only him that Steve made stupid or if it was everyone else, too. At least, he wondered until Steve made sure he was hanging on good enough and buried his hands back in his hair. Bucky melted into his touch again, left arm wrapped around Steve tightly to keep him from falling, and it wasn't until Steve turned him back under the spray that Bucky even realized he'd almost fallen asleep while Steve was washing his hair.

He had Steve,  _ naked Steve _ at that, in his shower with him, was literally pressed to him in all the right places and had nearly fallen asleep. What the fuck kind of cockblocking magic did Steve have in his hands? And why the fuck was he using it? Bucky was pretty much a sure thing. Why would Steve not want him awake? That thought got derailed way off the fucking track when Steve put his hands on Bucky's hips and pulled him even closer and oh, hello. Their dicks were lined up and then Steve was kissing him like he was gonna die if he didn't and they were moving against each other and it kinda hurt his bullet wounds and pulled on his stitches a little bit, but holy fuckin’ shit it was so good. Steve did a twisty movement with his hips and Bucky accidentally bit his tongue and started to apologize, but Steve just moaned and did it again. Yeah, okay. It was fine. Everything was so fucking fine. Who needed to be careful with their teeth? Not him apparently, because when he gently bit Steve’s bottom lip, more gently than he’d accidentally bitten his tongue, Steve moaned. He did it again, just a teeny bit harder to test a half formed theory and Steve shuddered, broke away from Bucky’s mouth, and sucked on the spot right under his ear. He scraped Bucky’s skin with his teeth and Bucky decided to test another theory and bit Steve’s shoulder hard enough to bruise while grabbing a handful of his ass. Steve shuddered with a whine, hips jerking, and Bucky grinned when he felt Steve come all over his stomach only for it to be washed away by the shower still raining down on them. Steve nipped his earlobe then reached between them to take Bucky’s cock in hand and he barely lasted two strokes before he was coming all over himself and Steve. It wasn’t his fault. Steve had magic hands.

He put Bucky down after a few moments and let him rinse off again then sat him on the edge of the tub and Bucky got to watch Steve wash up. He got to see all kinds of perfect muscles rippling and glistening and covered in his cotton candy body wash and the suds trailing down his chest and stomach and getting caught in his happy trail and the neatly trimmed dark blonde curls at the base of his cock. Bucky figured that maybe it was karma finally catching up on the shit he’d been through and giving him the most perfect gift ever. Not just getting to watch Steve in the shower, but possibly Steve loving him back. He hadn’t said it, but Bucky kinda figured he did or he wouldn’t have said “thank fuck”, kissed the shit out of him, and then jerked him off in the shower after washing his hair.

The water shut off and Bucky looked up at Steve to see him smiling down at him. “Are you okay?”

“Mmm.” He nodded quickly, fuck yeah he was okay, and Steve laughed then climbed out of the bathtub. Bucky carefully turned around on the edge of the tub and put his feet on the bathmat. He pointed Steve to his extra towel and watched him dry off quickly. After he finished he grabbed Bucky’s bath sheet and wrapped him in it then carried him into the bedroom and sat him on the bed.

“Clothes?”

No. Maybe. He should probably wear clothes, huh? He didn’t want to, but he pointed to his dresser and Steve went over and dug through the drawers then came back to the bed with two pair of plaid pajama pants. He held them out and Bucky picked out the rainbow plaid pair, leaving Steve a blue and grey plaid pair. Pajamas weren’t real clothes so it was okay. Mostly he didn’t give a shit about pajamas and slept naked five nights out of seven and he figured they were going to sleep now since there was no telling what time of night it was, but what if Steve wanted to go back to his own apartment? Was this the awkward morning after part of their relationship? Steve would need something to wear for his walk of shame. Bucky figured his pajama pants might work well enough for that if Steve wanted to go home. Shit. 

“Hey, what’s going on in that pretty head of yours Buck?” Bucky pointed to his bedroom door. “Do you want me to leave?” Bucky shook his head quickly and clung to Steve like a limpet making him laugh. “Okay. No leaving.” Bucky gave him a decisive nod and sighed when Steve started finger combing his wet hair, working out the tangles. “Do you want to take a nap? You heal faster when you sleep, like me right?” Bucky nodded. He did heal faster. When he woke up from his nap, if he managed to sleep, he’d have to check and make sure he hadn’t healed over his stitches. Sometimes he did if he didn’t catch them soon enough. He wouldn't even bother with them but most of the time it was easier to do the damn stitches than wait for the bleeding to stop. For now he was content to let Steve play with his hair. 

Why had no one told him how satisfying it was when someone played with your hair and massaged your scalp? Seriously. They all had to know and they also knew that Bucky was slightly touch starved, so why hadn't they told him? If he had known he'd have made one of them do it a lot sooner. Maybe even Thor, though there might be a static electricity issue and Bucky's hair was fluffy enough without it some days.

"Do you want me to braid your hair? Natasha makes me braid hers sometimes because I can get the braid pulled tighter than Clint." Bucky had seen how severely tight Natasha's braids had been before and always wondered how she managed it. Now he knew one of her closely guarded secrets. Just in case he might need to blackmail her over something stupid she caught him doing because it would happen one day. It had happened many times already and they had made a friendly game out of silly blackmail information. It was an innocent, childish game but it was fun. She had once found out that he liked exactly one Backstreet Boys song and he had found out that she got stoned with Clint and watched The Wiggles on their days off. She found out that he had once accidentally almost dated a woman for about a week back in 1938 and he found out that she had accidentally shot Clint in the butt when he had broken into her apartment and tried to surprise her by being found naked in her bed with a ribbon tied over his junk. See? Innocent stuff.

Steve moved to sit behind him on the bed, taking the time to pull his pajama pants on, and Bucky fucking melted when Steve started braiding his hair.

He woke up laying flat on his back with Steve curled up next to him propped up on one elbow and a hand resting below Bucky's navel with his thumb sweeping back and forth through the hair of his happy trail. Bucky took a deep breath and let it out with a sigh as he rested his hand over Steve's and twined their fingers together.

"Hey."

Steve smiled at him like the Sun shone out of his particularly perky ass. "Hey, sugar." Steve leaned down and gave him a gentle kiss that became a luxuriously languid makeout session that only ended when Steve leaned over him and accidentally bumped one of the wounds on his side. He had been unable to hide his sharp gasp of pain, but shook his head and gave Steve a reassuring smile and then used the opportunity to look at his wounds since they'd never gotten around to putting new bandages on. He wasn't sure how long they or at least  _ he _ had slept but they were healed up more than he expected, though still not quite enough to take the stitches out. Steve very, very lightly, skimmed his fingers over the wounds.

"Still can't believe you did this for me."

Yeah, it was kinda dumb. Bucky shrugged with a slight smirk and Steve shook his head with a crooked smile. "I'm the one with a shield, ya mook."

Bucky huffed out a laugh and pulled Steve into another kiss to keep their mouths busy so Steve wouldn't gripe at him again. It was a good strategy. The best plan ever. Especially when Steve slid down his body and then there was some shuffling around, a pillow got shoved under his hips, and Steve's tongue somewhere Bucky really, really liked it.

He hadn’t expected that at all, but sweet baby Jesus, yes please. Holy fucking shit. He whined and tangled his fingers in Steve’s hair, arched up into him and nearly bit through his bottom lip when Steve slid a finger in next to the tongue doing wickedly dirty things to him. His movements made his still healing bullet wounds twinge but he didn’t care. It felt too fucking good for him to care. No amount of jerking off had ever made him feel like this. He had either been doing something very wrong or Steve was a fucking Sex Wizard or something. Sex Wizard seemed more plausible than Bucky not knowing how to jerk off properly. Not as much as he’d been doing it the past couple months. Steve did something twisty with his finger and tongue and Bucky slammed a hand down on Steve’s shoulder and hooked his uninjured leg around his back with a whimper. Steve pulled his tongue out, added another finger, and curled them against Bucky’s prostate over and over while nibbling the inside of Bucky’s thigh, scraping his stubble over sensitive skin, licking the crease of his thigh. Bucky’s brain turned into something gooey and soft and floaty, and then Steve mouthed at his balls and licked a wavering line up his cock, and Bucky didn’t even know what the fuck noises he was making anymore. He especially didn’t fucking know when Steve fucking hoovered his cock like a fuckin' Dirt Devil. His hand shot back to Steve’s hair, both of them tangling in the strands and holding him close. Steve swallowed around him while managing to fucking hum at the same time like those stupid ventrilaquist guys that talked and drank water at the same time and it was game fucking over. He shoved at Steve’s head as he writhed, trying to lift him up but Steve only slapped his hands away and swallowed again and again until Bucky was nothing but a panting puddle of cotton candy scented goo on the bed. 

He finally let Bucky pull him up and when he grinned with swollen lips and Bucky nearly fainted. Good God, Steve was so fuckin’ pretty. Steve slithered up his body carefully and Bucky couldn’t help but smile into the kiss Steve gave him.

“Hi, baby doll.”

Bucky sighed and hugged Steve as tightly as he dared to and when Steve shifted he realized how hard Steve was. Oh, damn. That was...a lot. Really a lot. But holy shit. He slid a hand between them and Steve shook his head and lifted off of him slightly.

“That was for you, sugar.” Bucky shook his head with a huff, reached over to his nightstand for the lube he always left on the corner because no one would ever know or judge him for his possibly terrible masturbation practices. It would take more research, both with and without Steve, to know if Steve was actually a Sex Wizard, and really the humming and swallowing at the same time thing leaned heavily toward Sex Wizard status, or if Bucky just sucked at masturbation. They had time to figure it out and depending on Bucky’s findings they may need to try several times over. Just to get a proper basis for things. What if certain times with Steve were better though? Would like...mediocre sex with Steve, not that he thought sex with Steve would ever be mediocre, be a control group or would masturbation when he was alone be the control group? Could there even  _ be _ a control group? He should just start a chart and pin it to the fridge with a magnet. One column would be masturbation and the other sex with Steve and he’d just put gold stars on whichever side was better. And if Steve’s side had more gold stars at the end of the month then Bucky sucked at masturbation. Or Steve was a Sex Wizard. Either way he’d know for sure which one it was. Maybe. Whatever. He’d figure it out.

He rolled his eyes at himself then slithered out from under Steve to roll onto his uninjured side. He squeezed a palmful of lube on his hand and slathered it between his thighs then looked over his shoulder at Steve to see him swallow heavily while staring down at him. He grinned, curled the fingers of his free hand in a come hither gesture, and Steve gulped then lay down behind him. Bucky squeezed his thighs together tightly when Steve slid his cock between them and Steve shuddered with a whine of his own and gripped Bucky’s hip tight enough to bruise. When he started to move Bucky decided right then and there that Steve was definitely a Sex Wizard because it felt way better than it probably should have. He got hard again before Steve finished and when he reached for his dick Steve slapped his hand away, swiped his own hand through the precome and lube between Bucky’s thighs, and stroked him in time to his thrusts while nibbling on his ear. He did some twisty thing with his hand that Bucky had never felt on his cock before, more evidence of Steve’s sex wizardry, and Bucky whined as he came all over Steve’s hand and the bedsheets. Steve followed with a moan in Bucky’s ear and a hot splash of come between his thighs that made him shudder.

“Jesus Christ, baby doll. You make the sweetest fuckin’ noises for me.” Bucky was definitely blushing this time as Steve panted in his ear. “Never heard anything so sweet and perfect in my life, Buck. All these pretty noises just for me. Even if you can’t talk I’ll always know what you sound like when we’re together.” Bucky whimpered and squirmed and Steve chuckled darkly in his ear. “Just like that, sugar.” Oh, but Steve was filthy. And Bucky was filthy. And they needed to shower again. But Bucky could lay there for hours and let Steve talk dirty at him. Listen to his voice all deep and content. Lazy and fucking perfectly filthy. Steve was definitely a Sex Wizard if even his voice made Bucky want to go again even though he knew that twice in a row was his limit before he got too sensitive and it started hurting. For now at least. Steve’s sex wizardry would probably change that. Steve nuzzled in behind his ear and pressed a gentle kiss there. “I love you, Buck. Been in love with you pretty much since I saw you.” Bucky snorted. He highly doubted Steve had been in love with him while Bucky was trying to kill him and Sam and Natasha. “‘S why I just stood there like a dope. You were fuckin’ gorgeous. And, baby, I really do love you, but you’re so damned oblivious.”

“Excuse me!” Bucky tried to flip over but Steve laughed held him still. That wasn’t fair! Steve was the fucking oblivious one! He hadn’t figured out any of Bucky’s flirting. Not until he'd taken three bullets for him.

“Buck, why do you think I wore those tiny running shorts and shirts that are too fuckin’ small? That shit ain’t comfortable. Thought you was gonna come in your pants at the shooting range, too, when I was rubbing up against you and making you show me how to shoot over and over. I’m not a bad shot, Buck. I faked it to get closer to you. So we could spend more time together, just us. When you saw me when you brought me my flowers, I thought you'd faint. You were hard enough to pound nails, baby. Fuck," Steve sighed. "You should’ve seen yourself when we were sparring. You looked so fucking good and then my shirt got torn up. You couldn’t keep your eyes off of me, sugar. I got my hands on you so much that day. I wanted to fuck you right there on the mat. Probably would’ve tried if you hadn’t been so oblivious about things.” 

Bucky groaned. What the fuck? He could not have been that fucking oblivious. There was no way in hell. It had to be something to do with Steve. Some part of the serum that he got and Bucky didn’t because Bucky’s was the knockoff version. Steve was the actual made in America one and Bucky was the cheap generic one bought off of eBay and shipped from unknown locations with a two week to three month delivery period. If it ever showed up. And you were lucky if it showed up in one piece. Bucky had lost his left arm in the shipping process and they’d given him a spare that looked like it came off of some kind of jacked up action figure. And wow he was way off track. Steve seriously had to have some kind of mental power that turned Bucky into a dumb shit.

“You know? At first, when you started trying to flirt, I just thought you were maybe being just a little bit weird, but then I realized you had no clue what you were doing.”

No clue what he was doing? What the shit? “It worked!” Bucky growled, knocked his head against Steve’s, and was absolutely not pouting as Steve laughed. Steve didn’t know anything. Even if he was a Sex Wizard.

“Yeah, it did.” Steve nuzzled him again with a heavy sigh. “You’re talking more.”

“Mmm.”

“Even if you can’t talk all the time, I’ll always figure out what you want to say. And I’ll always know how to get the sweetest noises outta you, sugar.”

“Jesus,” Bucky sighed. Steve was going to kill him with his sex wizardry. He’d die happy at least.

And wake up that way too. He hadn’t even realized he was close to falling asleep. He woke up warm and snug in Steve’s arms with Steve curled around him. Lube and Steve’s spunk dried between his thighs. It was fuckin’ gross, but he couldn’t he assed to move. His side and thigh were no longer hurting and he knew he’d have to cut the stitches out before they got grown over. He didn’t want to mess with it, but if he didn’t do it before Steve woke he’d try to help and Bucky couldn’t let him. Not yet. That would be another part of the process. He wasn’t sure which process because honestly? He had a lot of issues to have processes for, but he’d figure it out. Later.

For now he squirmed out of Steve’s arms, put a pillow in his place, and then took the fastest, most perfunctory shower known to man. When he got out Steve appeared to be sleeping, but Bucky was pretty sure he was actually awake and just staying in bed where it was warm. He kept an eye on Steve as he pulled on a pair of teeny raspberry pink boxer briefs and then made his way to the kitchen and his toolbox of medical supplies for scissors and tweezers. He quickly removed the stitches with minimal cringing, the thread felt so gross sliding through his flesh and he really needed to invest in some surgical super glue, then went to dress in a baggy shirt and jeans. He was skipping coffee, but he had to get his money from Sam before he tried to weasel out of it.

When he got to Sam's apartment everyone else was there too. Waiting on him, he figured. They all grinned lasciviously and he could finally nod. He might've also flipped them off with both hands, but he nodded.

"Sam said I get half."

"Half of what," Tony asked innocently. Bucky huffed. Like Tony didn't know. He was probably the one who started the betting pool to begin with.

"Of whatever the pot is. Because I told Steve."

"Technically, you didn't say it." Bucky rolled his eyes, turned toward his asshole boyfriend type person who had snuck up behind him still smelling of cotton candy and sex and only wearing a pair of Bucky's pajama pants, and pointed to the three spots he'd been shot. "Yeah, you showed me. Stipulations were, you had to say it."

"How much. Do you get. If I do?"

"Me? Oh…" Steve bobbed his head back and forth like a douchebag as he pretended to think. "Enough to buy out the Thai place you love so much. And go to all the science museums because I know you're secretly a nerd."

He might not always be able to say it, but if Steve would buy out the Thai place for him and take him to the science museums he'd say it as much and as often as he could. He grinned, wrapped his arms around Steve as tightly as possible, and gave him a quick kiss.

"I love you."

"I love you too, baby doll."

He didn't blush, there was some sort of temperature fluctuation or something, when everyone did the stupid cheering and clapping thing because  _ fucking finally, right _ ?, and Steve laughed. Bucky shrugged and smiled into their next kiss. Sometimes being a disaster worked out.

A month later.

Bucky grinned as he put another gold star on the chart pinned to the fridge with a magnet version of Steve's shield. So far the "Sex With Steve" column was winning. He only had one day left but even still "Masturbation" only had four stars compared to the other, more fun, column. That had one, two, three...nineteen gold stars. He was still iffy on mutual masturbation, though. Did that count toward the masturbation column? Probably not since the masturbation column was supposed to be him jerking off by himself. He was ninety-nine percent sure Steve was a Sex Wizard. He didn't put a name above the columns though. He didn't want Steve to know what he was doing when he had started the chart.

"Are you ever going to tell me what the gold stars are for?"

"No." Bucky grinned at his boyfriend-type person then moved to the coffee maker to turn it on. He always forgot to set the timer for it to come on by itself.

"Are you sure?"

"No." He might tell Steve he thought he was a Sex Wizard and was testing a theory. One day. Maybe tomorrow. Depended on if anything happened today and Bucky had to jerk off or not. Sometimes Steve had to go out of town by himself and left Bucky home alone.

"I could guess what they're for?"

"You could." Bucky grinned at him again, nose scrunching up like it did when he was happy. "But it doesn't mean I'll tell you." The talking to Steve thing had gotten easier. Some days he still couldn't do it. Blushed and stammered and growled in frustration instead. But it was still easier. He figured it was the prolonged contact since he and Steve were pretty much attached at the hip. Well, not just the hip. There were some crotch and butt-type places they were attached to as well. 

"Is it good days versus bad days?"

"No."

Steve hummed thoughtfully for a moment, even rubbing his chin like a nerd. "Is it good dreams and bad dreams?"

"No." That was the other chart. The one pinned to the fridge with a sheep magnet and had blue stars. His therapist wanted him to write the nightmares down, thought it would help him get rid of them or at least make him not afraid, but he couldn't do that just yet. Not when half of them were memories and not just nightmares. So he made the chart instead. It was a process.

"Is it fluffy hair days and non-fluffy hair days?" Bucky glared at Steve then stuck his tongue out at him. It wasn't his fault his hair was fluffy. It kept trying to curl up the way it did when his hair had been short but was too heavy to curl while it was long so it got fluffy in retribution. It was okay now though, because when Steve was home he sat on the couch while Bucky sat between his legs on the floor and Steve combed out his hair and put leave-in conditioner in it and braided it for him to keep the floof at a minimum. Or on days like today when he had Steve put it in pigtails. Steve always had a couple hair ties around his wrist now too. Just in case Bucky ever needed them.

"No."

"Hmm. Is it sexy days and unsexy days?"

"That doesn't even make sense, you nerd."

Steve laughed. "Sure it does. There's days when you feel sexy and wear those blue skinny jeans that drive me crazy because they look like they're painted onto your thighs or days when you don't and you wear your baggy jeans and a sweater. But then there's the in between days when you're lazy and want to be comfortable and you wear your baggy pink sweater and black leggings and your light up unicorn house shoes with your Gay Power socks." His Gay Power socks were rainbow striped and had a tiny cape attatched to the back of each sock.

"Oh." Was it weird Bucky found the attention Steve paid to his wardrobe cute? Should it have been creepy? It wasn't. It was fucking adorable. God, he loved this man. "Ok fine, but that's not it either." He smiled to himself as he looked down at his oversized off the shoulder pink sweater, black leggings, Gay Power socks and light up unicorn house shoes. Steve was a nerd, but he loved him so damn much. "You get one last guess."

"What do I get if I guess right?"

"To live with me instead of just spending the night together." Probably it was too soon for them to move in together, but whatever. They'd be fine.

"Yeah?" Steve was giving Bucky the sunshine smile, blue eyes glittering brightly.

"Yeah."

"What if I guess wrong?"

"We can still live together, but just know that I'll be moving in with you out of pity." He tried not to laugh at the affronted look on Steve's face but gave in and laughed. "Just guess, baby."

"I don't know if I want to now. Not if you're being mean." Bucky smirked at Steve's pitiful attempt at pouting. He did give Steve a sweet kiss though. Lingering just long enough to stop his pouting and then turning and getting their mugs down. Steve's was one that Sam had made for him that was white and boring looking until he tipped it up to get a drink. Bucky's face was printed on the bottom, glaring at whoever was watching Steve drink his coffee. They both loved it. Bucky's was a gift from Sam as well. His one was pink with a rainbow on the side, but also had a picture of himself flipping people off on the bottom so everyone would see it while he was getting a drink.

"Can I use your mug today?" Bucky shrugged, poured their coffees and handed Steve his pink mug since the weirdo liked to drink his coffee black whereas Bucky refused to drink it unless there were mass amounts of sugar and cream. "Thank you, sugar." Bucky didn't blush, but it was a close thing. He was slowly getting used to the whole baby, sugar, sweetheart, doll, baby doll, thing. "I'm going to channel you for a moment."

Bucky giggled and leaned against Steve's side, snuggling close and drinking his coffee and cream flavored sugar syrup. At least that was what Steve had called it when he had tried a sip one time. Bucky just called it good coffee. It was undrinkable otherwise and tasted like what he imagined battery acid tasted like. He couldn't remember if he'd ever tried it. Even on accident.

"Hmm." Bucky giggled again. "Is it the number of times we've had sex? That seems like a very you thing to put a star on a chart for."

Bucky tensed at Steve's side. He knew his boyfriend-type person would be unbearable about it now. "It is, isn't it baby doll?"

"Sort of."

"Just sort of?"

"Yeah. Cause the one with more stars is when I had a better orgasm. There's a process shut your face," he added when Steve grinned and started to speak. "The one with more stars is us having sex and the one with less stars is me jerkin' off. I've almost got proof that you're some kind of Sex Wizard."

"Well," Steve said with a grin. "Dr. Erskine did say the serum would enhance everything. Good becomes great and all that. So that must mean I was really great at sex before the serum and it enhanced me to Sex Wizard status when it made me like this." Bucky could tell Steve was trying not to laugh and rolled his eyes. "I'm serious, Buck."

Just how big was Steve's dick when he was twink sized? 'cause it it was fucking huge now. So it must've been pretty sizable even when he was little. He must've looked like a freaking tripod walking around. Damn.

"So. Now that you're almost sure I'm a Sex Wizard what's the final test phase?"

"Today's the last day for testing so I need to have one more orgasm."

"Just one?"

"Well, I guess it doesn't have to be just one." He grinned into his coffee cup when Steve groaned and started getting handsy.

"Come on, baby doll. I'll give you the best orgasm ever. You'll start singing that song you like." Steve started kissing on his neck and he sighed and tilted his head to the side so Steve would have more room to work with, pigtails swishing over to one side.

"What song?"

"The Backstreet Boys song. Natasha said you liked it. Just the one though."

"Yeah? Well, Natasha and Clint get stoned and watch The Wiggles on their days off."

Steve laughed, little huffing breaths against Bucky's neck, then scraped his teeth just under Bucky's ear. He bit down, just a little, then sucked on the skin between his teeth, and Bucky flailed around with his coffee cup until he found the counter.

"Steve," Bucky sighed when his boyfriend-type person licked over the bruise he'd only have for a few minutes. "Come on, baby. Let's go back to bed."

"Mmm." Steve kissed under his ear once more then picked him up and slung him over his shouder like a sack of flour. Bucky laughed, kicking his legs, as his pigtails swung with each step. He wiggled around until he was eye level with Steve's perfect bubble butt and grabbed at it with both hands and maybe his teeth, but it was fine. Steve didn't care if Bucky bit him on the butt because he liked it and he knew how much Bucky liked it. Mostly Bucky wanted a semi-permanent imprint of his teeth on Steve's butt so if anyone happened to see any butt-type areas they'd know he already had a boyfriend-type person in his life. He yelped as he was tossed onto the bed and kicked his unicorn house shoes off while Steve stripped out of his clothes. 

Three hours later Bucky snuck back into the kitchen and placed four more stars in the "Sex With Steve" column. Steve was definitely a Sex Wizard. 

He was not humming his stupid favorite Backstreet Boys song on the way back to his bedroom and Steve. He was also definitely not doing the dance from the video either. And he certainly didn't jump and yelp when the first line of the song blared through the apartment followed by Steve laughing. He looked up and saw Steve standing in the doorway in his altogether holding up his phone. He stuck his tongue out at Steve and danced his way down the hall. It was too late to stop, he'd already been busted. He didn't even know why he liked the song or where the Backstreet Boys had been or how someone managed to lose five singers, but apparently they were back.

"Let's go back to bed, Buck."

"Again?"

Steve shrugged. "If you wanna."

"Yeah, okay."

Steve turned the song off and tossed his phone toward the bed. Their bed. Then took Bucky's hand and pulled him close enough to kiss. "How many stars did I get?"

"Four."

"So, it's official?"

"It's official."

"Yes!" Steve cheered then dragged Bucky back to the bed. "Sex Wizard status achieved!"

Bucky laughed and curled up on top of Steve and rested his head on his chest over his heart so he could hear it beating. 

"You're a nerd."

Steve pulled the blankets over him then hugged him tight. "I love you too, baby doll."

Being a disaster definitely worked out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trivia!
> 
> 1\. The chapter titles are Backstreet Boys songs.   
> 2\. I love soft, gay disaster Bucky with my whole heart.   
> 3\. He downloaded every Backstreet Boys album one night during an episode and won't admit it. Even to himself. Denial is real.  
> 4\. He still only listens to the one song.   
> 5\. The song is Everybody (Backstreet's Back)  
> 6\. Steve will be getting his own one-shot POV if the events from this fic. It won't be as long, but it'll still be awesome. 
> 
> Thank you for all the kind words, kudos, bookmarks, etc. I really appreciate it! ❤❤❤❤❤❤❤


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